What I Should Have Done
by Ireland23
Summary: Warning: Rated M for Lemons. Excerpt:  "I need you. Give me what I need Clare." Before I could protest, his mouth was crashing down on mine and despite my surprised attempts to pull away, he was stronger." Chapter TWO uploaded!
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is my first Clare/Fitz story. I haven't been able to follow the show lately; Grad school has been inconveniently in the way. So, if I missed the mark with this one, I apologize in advance :)**

Chapter One

I rolled my eyes and answered the phone for what seemed like the 20th time in the past hour. "What Eli?" I sighed. I just wanted five minutes to myself to enjoy the brooding storm that so perfectly matched my current mood.

"What are you doing?" He practically barked in my ear. This overbearing Neanderthal act was getting old and didn't suit him whatsoever.

"The same thing I was doing every other time you called me." I rubbed my hand over my face and inwardly groaned. I felt like screaming.

"Clare, what is your problem?" He sounded anxious, like he was about to snap any second.

"_My_ problem.." I started to go off on a tangent, but a knock at the door that was appropriately followed by a loud boom of thunder cut me off. "Eli, I have to go. Someone's at the door. _I'll _call _you_ when I'm not busy." I heard his protests and inquiries of who was at my door, but I didn't bother to acknowledge that I had. Instead, I clicked off the phone and swung open the front door.

What I saw had so many conflicting feelings zinging throughout my body. Fear, concern, _lust._

_**Lust?**_

It was Fitz; he had a deep gash under his eye. He was soaked to the bone and undeniably sexy. I didn't _want_ to think that way about him. It just _happened._

"Clare." All he said was my name. His voice was hoarse and I could see his hands shaking slightly from the damp clothes against his rough skin.

"Fitz, what…what are you…" he took a step forward, standing only a few inches away from me. His cologne infiltrated my nostrils and a thrill scorched from my nipples, down my stomach and permeated in my hips. No one had _ever_ had that effect on me. I had to gain my control back. I should be afraid of him. I should have screamed, run away, _called Eli._ But I didn't. Instead, I took a few steps back and allowed him to come in. He shut the door behind him and another loud burst of thunder boomed. I flinched, not from him, but the storm.

"I had to see you." He walked toward me. He was the predator now, and I was what he was after. Why, I wasn't sure.

"You really shouldn't be here." I backed up through the living room and toward the staircase. "I think you should leave." I shuddered because it was a lie. I didn't _want_ him to leave. I wanted to know why he was here, why he had to see me, why his face was all banged up.

"You're the only thing that makes my miserable life feel better." He gripped my wrist when I stepped up on the bottom step leading to the upstairs. "I need you. Give me what I need Clare." Before I could protest, his mouth was crashing down on mine and despite my surprised attempts to pull away, he was stronger.

I shoved my hands against his chest and attempted to push him away. He grunted and gripped my shapely thighs with his work roughened hands. Unlike Eli, this in-control, aggressive attitude fit him perfectly. I felt light headed and I reveled in this out of control feeling. I should have kicked him, punched him, done _something_, but I didn't. I resisted, but not like I should have. Not like I would have if it had been any other guy.

"Please." The word rolled off of his lips in a sensual groan as he hoisted me up to wrap my thighs around his chiseled hips. His hands moved to my ass and pulled me roughly against his hardness. No one had touched me so intimately and I should have felt guilty. I should have screamed, cried, and threatened him. But I'd lost my voice, I'd lost my mind. All I could see, feel, or think about was one boy I should stay so far away from.

Before I knew it, we were in my bedroom, in my bed. He was on top of me and his greedy hands were all over my body. He pulled my shirt off first; his lips were hot and needy against the soft skin of my neck. I gasped as his chilled, rain soaked sweat shirt pressed against my bare skin. He pulled away to take his shirt off. I should have run away, I should have picked something up and thrown it at him. But I just laid there, watching him yank his sweatshirt off, followed by his undershirt. His wet jeans clung to his hips and his need for me was evident. I focused on his chest and I gasped when I saw the large bruise that covered the entire expanse of his left side.

"W-what happened?" I should have been concerned with what he was clearly intending to do with me. Instead, my heart broke for him. I wanted to make him feel better; I wanted to caress his chilled skin. I _wanted_ him.

"Step brother." He grunted and shoved his jeans to the floor. "He beats up on me."

"Why?" I started to sit up, but in one swift motion he was on top of me, yanking my jeans down and tossing them to the floor.

"Doesn't matter," He was rough when he ripped my bra from my body. "talking about it won't change reality." He was too focused on me to speak in complete sentences. His mouth found my nipple and I nearly shot up off the bed. I'd never felt anything so wonderful. My hands raked through his hair and pulled his mouth closer to my chest.

While his mouth sucked greedily, his hands worked on yanking my panties from my hips. I was suddenly acutely aware that he'd shed his boxers at some point while his mouth had been working sinfully at my chest.

He grasped my hands and held them above my head, sinking me deeper into the mattress. I could feel his hardness sliding against my core and I was suddenly fearful. I'd never done this before. I'd never _wanted_ to do this before. His strong hips pressed my thighs further open and I gasped at the feeling.

"Make it go away Clare." His mouth attacked mine and I felt him slide passed my virginal barrier in one swift motion. He swallowed my scream and I felt his entire body shudder from the sensation. The burn was tremendous and my eyes brimmed with tears. He let go of my hands and pulled his lips away from mine long enough to whisper in an agonized voice. "Touch me. Please, Clare."

My hands fell to his back and he began to rhythmically pump inside me. The soreness depleted somewhat, but my thighs trembled from the burning sensation of his thick hardness filling me for the first time.

He picked up his pace as if he were trying to get even closer to me. His hot breath puffed against my ear and I ran my hands down his still rain chilled back and pulled him to me. I wanted to be closer. I could feel his heart thrumming against my chest. He slid his hand into the mass of my curly mane and shifted my head so we were staring into each other's eyes. My name rolled off of his tongue and I felt my lower stomach spasm. "I want you to watch me." I knew what he wanted. I kept my eyes on him when the waves of the most intense orgasm over took my entire body. He let out a rasping groan and slammed deep inside me.

"Fitz." His name was barely more than a moan and encouraged his rough, possessive movements. He pulled all the way out and plunged one last time as deeply as he could. He bit down on my shoulder and rode out the waves of pleasure enrapturing his body.

We laid there for what seemed like hours, panting, clutching each other close. His musky smell was heavenly as was his muscular body weighing me down. I stroked my hands over his shoulders and down his back when he suddenly wrenched away from me. "I thought it would be enough." I was confused; I didn't understand what he meant.

"What?" I suddenly felt vulnerable, scared and alone. I pulled one of the blankets lying at the end of my bed up to cover my nudity.

"I thought it would just take one time." He huffed, pulling his boxers on and then his jeans. "I thought one time would be enough. I thought it would make this feeling go away." He looked so agonized. I wasn't even concerned about what had just happened, how I was feeling. I was focused on him. I'd never had such an intense need to console someone. Someone who obviously didn't want me anywhere near him anymore.

"What feeling Fitz?" His eyes snapped up to meet mine as he slipped his still drenched undershirt over his toned body.

"I've got to go." His voice was cold and I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. I should have been angry. I should have told him to leave and never come back. Instead, I reached out and grabbed his hand. He gasped softly and allowed me to pull him toward the bed, to stand in front of me.

"I'm sorry that he hurt you." I said, my voice shaking. I was careful, afraid he would shove me away. My hand slid gently to his stomach and I lifted his shirt up a few inches. I locked eyes with him for a brief second and then pressed my lips to the darkening bruise covering his ribs. I heard the air rush out of his lungs and one of his hands found the back of my neck as I peppered kisses along his skin. I needed him to know I was there for him. I couldn't understand it myself, but it wasn't a choice. It was an undeniable need.

"Stop it. Just stop it." He pulled my mouth away from him and stumbled backward. "It wasn't supposed to be like this!" I could see the unshed tears pooling in his intense blue eyes.

"Fitz please…" I should have been glad he was leaving. I should have wanted Eli to console me, but all I wanted was the boy standing before me.

He rushed to my door and turned back only once. His eyes were so sad I nearly started crying. He pulled the door shut, it was his way of telling me he didn't want me to follow him. I sunk back in my bed and stared at the ceiling.

I should have been ashamed. I should have regretted every moment of what just happened. I should have hated myself and the boy who'd made me lose control.

Instead, I burrowed in the comfort of my bed and closed my eyes. My thoughts weren't on Eli or the purity ring that was no longer appropriate to wear. My thoughts were on Mark Fitzgerald.

He was the only boy worth giving up everything that I should have done.


	2. Chapter 2

_What I should have done Chapter 2_

"Eli, I don't know what to tell you. I just can't do this anymore." I put my face in my hands and leaned forward on the front porch steps that I was sitting on. He'd shown up at 11, it was nearly midnight and he was still standing there arguing with me about my decision to end our relationship. "You're controlling and honestly you're a loose cannon these days. I never know when you're just going to blow up.

"Clare you're not listening to me!" I rolled my eyes when I saw him stomp his foot and then punch the wooden railing of the porch. He grimaced and then I saw the smirk slightly grace his lips. I really think he enjoyed being in pain.

"I _am_ listening to you. I've_ been_ listening to you for the last hour." I was at my wits end. I couldn't deal with him anymore. I was tired and had so much more on my mind than Eli and his mood swings.

For example, it was nearly midnight and that was about the time that Fitz would be over. Don't get me wrong, Fitz and I weren't an item, boyfriend and girlfriend, or even friends. I was his outlet. He came over every single night a few minutes past midnight. I should have told him no, locked the door and refused to speak to him. But I never did. I always willingly let him in, snuck him past my parents' room and agreeably let him use me. As soon as he'd finish with me he would get up, get dressed and he'd be gone just like that first night. I should have hated him, hated myself, but I didn't. I became accustomed to the hour that he spent with me each night, even if it was purely a way for him to make himself feel better. He never held me afterward and there were no sweet kisses or soft words of affection.

"Eli, you need to leave. I need to go to bed, it's Midnight." I hoped if Fitz showed up that he would have enough sense to keep himself hidden until Eli left.

I didn't expect Eli to grab my arms and squeeze hard enough to leave dark red marks in his fingers' destructive wake. I didn't expect him to be strong enough to hold me there while he yelled at me for giving up on him, giving up on us. I _really_ didn't expect Fitz to come barreling around the side of my house and knock Eli on his ass in one swift motion.

"You fucking ever touch her again and the next time you're in that hearse you'll be in a pine box." Fitz wasn't looking at Eli when he venomously spoke; he was inspecting the darkening marks on my arms. I should have been afraid of him; I should have told them both to go to hell and then ran inside. But it was in that moment that I realized I wasn't just allowing this _arrangement_ with Fitz to go on because I wanted to help him, because I knew he needed me. I needed him too.

I watched as Eli stood and backed up slowly. "Is he the reason you don't wear your purity ring anymore?" Eli kept steadily backing down the front yard to his hearse.

I didn't answer, I just stood there frozen. He gave one last menacing look, but when Fitz took a step toward him he fled and rushed to his ride. I watched as Fitz's spine relaxed when Eli screeched down the street and he turned toward me.

"Come on, my parents are asleep." I slipped the t-shirt I had on over my tank top off as I walked up the stairs and reached for the door. He was looking at me differently than he had in the past three weeks. Every night without fail he would come over, have sex with me, and then leave. No emotion, nothing, just sex.

He followed behind me, much more closely than any other time he'd come up to my room. He wasn't acting the same. I began undressing, stripping down to my bra and underwear. Normally he would have already been completely naked, ready to take me hard and fast, but he was just watching me. I gave him a confused look and reached back to unhook my bra. I was used to this, undressing myself and then getting into whatever position he barked at me.

"Did he ever hurt you like that before?" Fitz's voice was quiet and he wasn't staring at my newly exposed chest or the cotton panties I still wore. Instead, he was staring at the marks Eli had left on my forearms. His eyes roved higher to the light green, barely recognizable bruises on my shoulders. I shook my head in the negative and he crossed the room in two quick strides. His warm hand felt like heaven against the skin of my shoulder. "Then this is from…?" He didn't finish the sentence, but he knew he'd been rough with me several times we'd had sex.

"They don't hurt." I shrugged. What else could I say? I should have said that he shouldn't have grabbed me so roughly when he came over a few nights ago. I should have said that I wanted so badly for him to treat me like I was more than just an outlet for his frustration. I should have done what I would have if he was any other guy. But he wasn't another guy, he was Fitz. I knew he wasn't rough with me on purpose, he was struggling and all I wanted was to make him feel better.

"I did that?" His voice cracked with emotion and his hand moved gently to my slightly marred shoulder. "God, what am I fucking doing?" his other hand came to rest softly on my hip and his t-shirt clad chest pressed against mine.

"I'm really okay Fitz, I bruise like a peach." I tried to lighten the mood; I hated the tortured look in his eyes.

"I could have killed Eli for putting his hands on you." He wrenched me close to his body and burrowed his face against my neck. I could feel his entire body quivering in my embrace. He was much larger than I was, but he was the one seeking comfort from me. "But I'm no better than he is, I hurt you. I was only concerned with me." I felt him take a ragged breath and his rough lips pressed against my shoulder. "Why Clare?" he pulled back to look at me straight in the eyes.

"Why what?" My voice was barely audible and I gasped as he leaned in and kissed my forehead, both of my cheeks and finally placed a chaste kiss against my lips.

"Why didn't you make me leave? Tell me to go to hell?" His hands slid down my back and gripped me closer to him, his breathing was irregular and his eyes were wide with sincerity. He seriously didn't know? "I don't treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I'm not good enough for you Clare."

"But you are!" my hands flew to my mouth when I realized how loud I'd answered him. If my parents walked in, we were both going to _hell_.

He let out a harsh breath and once my hands left my mouth, his lips crashed onto mine. It wasn't the normal rough kisses that showed how much he wanted me. Instead they were soul searing, mind numbing flicks of his lips sliding against mine that showed me how much he really needed me.

Before I knew it we were on my bed, I'd shrugged his clothes away from his muscled body and he got rid of my panties. I felt him sigh as he delved deep inside me, my hips rising to meet his purposeful thrusts. He kept his eyes locked on mine and his rhythm was slow, calculated, and uncharacteristically gentle.

He supported himself on his elbows and pulled his mouth from mine and lowered his head to my chest. His mouth was warm against my sensitive nipples. I stroked my hands down his back and urged him on. "Fitz, I'm almost there." I gasped and arched my body against him. He groaned and craned his neck to cover my mouth with his own. I felt my inner muscles contract around his hardness and he picked up his pace. The muscles in his back flexed under my fingertips and I moaned into his mouth with waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

He sucked on my earlobe and I felt his body jerk in a way that I'd come to recognize. His orgasm followed mine and his strong arms locked around me. I squeezed him to me one last time and then loosened my grip, knowing this was the part where he'd get up without a word and get dressed.

But it never came. He didn't move a muscle to roll off of me; instead he inhaled against my neck deeply and curled his arms tighter around me. When a minute turned into several and he'd still made no attempt to move I shifted beneath him in order to make sure he was okay. He propped himself up on his elbows and then rolled over on his side. I wasn't sure what was going on so I moved to sit up and he swiftly rolled me toward him.

"Please don't leave me the way I left you Clare." His voice was hoarse and he was exhausted. His hand found mine and he linked our fingers together. I should have pulled away, made him leave before I could get hurt. I shouldn't have allowed myself to feel anything for him

This was Mark Fitzgerald, the boy who made me want to do the opposite of what I should have done.


End file.
